


To Ponder Distant Stars and Spacemen

by TheBatchild



Category: TWRP | Tupper Ware Remix Party (Band)
Genre: Danger, Developing Relationship, F/M, Friendship, Multiple Time Periods, Outer Space, Rescue Mission, Slice of Life, Stargazing, TWRP Big Bang 2020, Time Travel, multiple POVs, space travel, time bubble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:28:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27726173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBatchild/pseuds/TheBatchild
Summary: All the Groove Crusaders want is to travel the stars, spreading joy and positivity. All Reverence wants is to travel the stars, making maps and collecting stories and exploring the big wide universe. When their paths cross on some backwater planet, both parties find themselves frequently unlucky, but when that bad luck turns deadly for Reverence, it is the Crusaders who come to her rescue.A slice-of-life look at what happens when Reverence, Doctor Sung, Commander Meouch, Lord Phobos, and Havve Hogan cross paths over the years, and the lengths the Groove Crusaders will go to in order to save one cartographer’s life.
Relationships: Doctor Sung/Original Character, Doctor Sung/Reverence Talon
Kudos: 2
Collections: TWRP Big Bang 2020





	To Ponder Distant Stars and Spacemen

_Reverence, now—_

“I wish I could tell you this was the first time I’d been stranded in the middle of space, but that would be a lie. 

“I wish I could tell you I knew how to get my ship working again, but that would also be a lie; I only have basic knowledge of how to maintain this heap of trash, and know next to nothing about the FTL drive, which is, of course, what’s broken.

“I wish I could tell you I knew what was going to happen, but I don’t. 

“I can however tell you that this time, at least, _it is not my fucking fault._

“Knowing that doesn’t solve any of my problems, but I take comfort in the knowledge anyway. I’m probably going to die out here, staring out the viewscreen at the black between stars as I eat my way through my meagre rations, but at least I know I’m not going to die because of something _I_ did. 

“Yeah. Real comforting. 

“Let me back up a bit and fill in some details so that if someone finds my ship, my body, and this log, they will at least know what happened to me and they can tell my family. If there’s anyone left. I’m mildly afraid I’m not just stuck in space, but in time, and that everyone I know and love will be gone by the time I get out of here— _if_ I get out of here—but there’s no way to really, uh, confirm that suspicion, unless someone decides to swing by this area of nowhere, so I’m just trying not to think about it.

“My name is Reverence Talon. I was born on K’noss, a small planet covered primarily by water and dense forests orbiting red and yellow binary stars we call Caern and Rieses. From the time I was little, all I wanted to do was make maps, so when I had completed my cartographer training, was old enough, and had enough money saved, I bought myself a junker ship and took off for the stars.

“Somewhere along the line, I started collecting stories as well. Stars and stories, maps and… migrating to wherever my curiosity takes me. That’s my life.

“I’ve been out here for almost fifteen years, making maps, exploring planets, and writing down the stories people want to share, but somehow haven’t managed to shake this terrible spectre of bad luck that has followed me since I stumbled upon four idiots on some backwater hunk of rock. That was five years ago, and since then, I’ve been stranded three times, almost died maybe five times, and have seriously considered giving up, going home, and becoming a farmer or fisherman or some shit. 

“This time is just the latest incident. It also happens to be the worst. 

“So far.

“And I know it’s not my fault because, the last time the ship needed repairs, the FTL drive was tinkered with and subsequently screwed up, so when I went to engage it, there was a small explosion and everything broke.

“So whose fault is it? 

“Those same four idiots who are behind my incredible string of bad luck, the Groove Crusaders, who, admittedly, have their hearts in the right places, but tend to leave a little chaos in their wake, wherever they go. 

“They broke my ship.

“And when—if—I see them again, there will be hell to pay.”

Rev pressed the button on the computer embedded in her metal left arm to finish recording, and dropped her head against the viewscreen with a sigh. She was sitting on the floor next to it, a blanket over her lap, and a pile of empty food containers surrounding her. Why clean up when she was going to die? She wouldn’t leave a beautiful corpse surrounded by trash, but she didn’t really care. Her eyes, as black as the abyss around her ship, reflected the distant points of light back at her in the viewscreen, creating the illusion of a denser patch of stars. Someone looking at her might say she looked sad, but Reverence only felt frustrated.

“What a view to die to,” she whispered. “If only I had some music.” Reverence snorted, closed her eyes, and hoped sleep came soon and that it brought dreams with it. She would give anything to see something other than space before she went. It had been too long since she’d seen trees, smelled fresh air, dipped her toes in cool, clean water. She loved space, but there was nothing like feeling the ground steady beneath your feet after a long stretch in the black.

If she’d kept her eyes open a moment longer, she might have seen the approaching ship.

Though it’s doubtful it would have brought her any comfort.

* * *

_Doctor Sung, now—_

He knew the ship the minute he saw it, even before the name on the hull became clear. He’d know that chipped blue and purple paint anywhere— _Starskipper_. A small, involuntary groan escaped his throat, and he dragged a hand over his mouth and chin. That ship was owned and inexpertly piloted by a cartographer Sung and the rest of the Groove Crusaders had had the sometimes unfortunate pleasure of crossing paths with several times. Sometimes unfortunate, always unexpected. 

Unexpected things always seemed to happen when Reverence was around.

As much as Sung wasn’t looking forward to the chaos that would inevitably unfold after this meeting, there was a small—at least that’s what he told himself—part of him that was looking forward to seeing the blue-haired spitfire again.

She might bring chaos in her wake, but she was usually good for some laughs. Some fun.

“Is that who I think it is, Doc?” 

Without looking at Commander Meouch, Sung nodded. “Mhm. Wonder what she’s doing out here, in the middle of nowhere?” 

“I don’t think she’s here by choice,” Lord Phobos said, cutting off whatever Meouch’s reply might have been. Phobos was sitting at a computer, watching _Ladyworld_ ’s scanner readout crawl across the screen. “Life support systems are the only ones with power. And there’s a weird bubble around her ship— Hey!” 

Sung caught Havve Hogan elbowing Phobos away from the computer out of the corner of his good eye, but he’d turned his attention back to the _Starskipper_ floating in front of them. Through his visor and the enhanced views it offered, he could see some sort of distortion surrounding Reverence’s ship, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was—all he could say was that it wasn’t something he’d seen before. With only life support running though, his concern was mostly for the K’nossian inside. How long had her ship been stuck here? Did she have supplies? 

“Havve says she’s stuck in a time bubble,” Phobos said. “Whatever the hell that is.” 

Meouch made a noise somewhere between a growl and a huff. “Great. Couldn’t have been something easy, could it?” 

“What has anything with Rev ever been easy?” Sung asked, though he didn’t sound as exasperated as he’d meant to. He couldn’t keep one corner of his mouth from lifting in a grin, an expression he was sure Meouch saw. Thankfully, he didn’t say anything. “Can we get her out?” 

Havve shook his head and, without any prompting, the Groove Crusaders all crowded around the computer screen in front of the cyborg. The screen was a mess of numbers and letters, formulas and equations Sung couldn’t make heads nor tails of. However, the important part was clear enough: with their current shield configuration, their ship would be unable to penetrate the time bubble, leaving Rev stranded. 

“Can our shields be calibrated to allow us to get through?” he asked Havve. 

After a moment, Havve nodded.

“Good. Get on it. I’ll attempt to get a message to her.”

Havve, Phobos, and Meouch set to work, the latter two vanishing into the depths of the ship and the former taking a seat behind the main computer. Sung returned to his favoured spot right next to the viewscreen, sat at the communications terminal, and started scanning the frequencies, hoping that one could break through the time bubble and reach Reverence, but knowing it was unlikely. He also knew the chances that she was alive to get that message were slim to none.

But he was trying not to think about that too hard.

* * *

_Reverence, five years ago—_

“This new solar system only has three planets, and only one of them is in the habitable zone—or what I can estimate as the habitable zone, anyway. My repair on the scanner was predictably shitty and—surprise, surprise—it’s not holding well. I’ll have to see what I can do after I’ve landed, I guess.

“You know, if the planet actually is habitable and I can breathe its atmosphere with little to no assistance. I still haven’t replaced my exosuit. Because I’m a genius. I should have done it with the money from my last commission, but I decided upgrading the climate regulator for the agriculture bay was more important. Can’t explore very well or make maps or write stories to sell if I can’t eat.” 

Reverence cleared her throat before she continued her log entry. “Stellar maps aren’t as highly demanded as they once were. Most of the accessible systems and planets have been excessively mapped now, and the rich have turned to collecting the oldest, most inaccurate historical maps instead. People have more interest in the stories I write down than the maps I make. I guess I should be thankful anyone wants anything I make. At least I haven’t had to turn to smuggling or delivery jobs. Yet.” She snorted at the encroaching possibility. A junker ship for a junker job—perfect. “And at least this client is playing me an arm and a leg to map this system that’s effectively in the middle of nowhere. 

“You know, relative to the more well-travelled systems, anyway.” 

Reverence paused in recording her log entry to pilot her ship, the _Starskipper_ , towards the habitable planet of the system and prepared for entry into its atmosphere. Her ship’s scans told her it was breathable, if a little thinner than what she was used to. Should be an easy landing. Her scans also picked up a few dense pockets of life signs, which was a good sign, all things considered; she felt the little prickle of nerves in her gut that she always did before landing on a new planet.

As she opened her mouth to continue recording, a shrill beeping filled the bridge, startling Reverence enough that she jumped a bit. Reverence turned her black eyes to the readouts on her console. The proximity warning flashed, but she caught it a few seconds too late.

Before she could correct her course, or take control of the helm from the autopilot, something—likely an asteroid—slammed into the side of her ship and sent her spinning towards the planet. She felt the pull of gravity even as she stopped the _Starskipper_ ’s rotation and knew it was too late to pull up. All she could do was attempt to make the landing softer. Keep her ship in one piece. 

Keep _herself_ in one piece. 

Tears stung at her eyes as the fear clawed its way through her. Reverence wanted to throw up but she needed to keep her wits about her if she was going to live through this. Outside the viewscreen, the world had turned to fire as the friction heated the air and the ground rushed towards her. While she’d had her fair share of technical issues with her ship, and more than her fair share of rocky landings, she’d never lost control or crashed before. 

For the first time in a long time, Reverence was afraid she’d die. 

When she was near the appropriate altitude, she decelerated. The _Starskipper_ fought her, wanting to continue its careening path towards the ground, but eventually the ship responded, and she was able to level out and start the landing sequence. Her heart was pounding in her ears, her stomach turning, her mind racing through all the horrid ways in which her body could be mangled, torn apart, obliterated… 

The belly of the ship struck the ground once, twice, three times, throwing Reverence against her restraints hard enough to bruise, and then it hit the ground again and skidded to a stop, filling the air with the smell of burned dirt and vegetation and ozone. When the world had stopped spinning and she was sure the ship wasn’t going to move again, Reverence freed herself from the restraints, turned off the ship, and ran to the door, slamming the button until it opened, exposing emerald grass and a sapphire sky. She stumbled down the ramp, collapsed in the grass, and threw up. 

* * *

_Doctor Sung, five years ago—_

“Hey, did you see that?” 

Sung looked up from the keyboard he’d been tinkering with and followed Lord Phobos’s finger. He was pointing at the sky. Sung narrowed his eyes, his visor scanning through wavelengths until a trail became visible—it looked like exhaust from a ship. Or something more serious. “A ship?” he asked, hopeful. 

“Looked like a shooting star,” Phobos said. His helmet allowed him to speak, but the electronic vocal output could be difficult to understand sometimes; thankfully, Sung had lots of practice and rarely had trouble making out the words. “I think it was a ship. And it was crashing.”

“Don’t tell me we’re going to investigate,” Commander Meouch said from where he was sitting. His head was tipped back, the last rays of the setting sun turning his mane a fiery orange. “I thought we were done for the day.” 

“What do you want to do instead?” Sung asked. “Pretend we didn’t see it?” 

“Ideally.” 

“Meouch—”

“We came here to bring some joy to a city after a brutal extraterrestrial attack, Sung, not chase shooting stars that, if they lead to anything other than a smoking hunk of rock, will only lead to destruction and death.” 

“Well you’re chipper this evening,” Phobos quipped. “Sitting around is boring. Let’s go check it out. You can stay here,” he said to Meouch. 

Sung pressed his lips together to avoid smiling; if they left to go check out the landing site of whatever it was that had streaked across the sky, Meouch would come with them. He didn’t like being left alone in unfamiliar places, not after their stint in the city where everyone wanted to pet Meouch’s mane and didn’t seem to understand him asking them to stop. Sung got to his feet, put down his tools, and headed to the edge of the balcony on the quarters they’d been given. His visor readout couldn’t tell him much about whatever had crashed from here, but it could predict a likely landing location. He sent the information to Havve, whose eyes flashed twice, his head moving from side to side ever so slightly as he processed the data. 

Meouch groaned when he realized what was happening. “Fine. Let’s go see some wreckage.” 

Once the four of them had geared up, they left the room and started the trek on foot, since it shouldn’t take too long to get to the predicted landing site; Havve, following the data from Sung’s visor, was leading the way so they didn’t get lost. They passed several of the city’s inhabitants on their way out, all of them speculating about whatever had streaked across the sky. 

As they left the boundaries of the city, the world became dimmer, the sun’s light no longer bolstered by the golden glow from the city’s lamps. But they were not in the low light for long. After maybe only fifteen or twenty minutes of walking, the world brightened suddenly, blue-white light emanating from somewhere over the hill in front of them. 

Sung jogged ahead of the others, reaching the top of the hill in seconds. Before him, there was indeed a crashed ship, but it was only… slightly crashed? It was mostly in one piece, and though it was smoking, there was only a bit of visible damage. The light was coming from the exterior lights, one of which was flickering, and there was no—

“Fucking hell!” 

A piece of metal came flying from the other side of the ship after the curse and Sung chuckled. Phobos, Meouch, and Havve had joined him at the top of the hill by then, just in time to see an irate woman appear, her pale skin flushed and her blue hair a tangled mass around her head. 

“Hey!” Sung yelled without thinking; it was clear she was in trouble, though he knew the other Groove Crusaders weren’t going to be happy with him drawing attention their way. “Are you okay?” 

Her head snapped up and even from that distance, Sung could see her eyes narrow. After a second however, she seemed to decide none of them meant her any harm, because she sighed and dropped whatever it was that she was holding. “Physically, yes!” she yelled back. “But I don’t think I can stay the same about my ship!”

Sung started down the hill, ignoring the groan from Meouch, and closed the distance between him and the crashed woman fairly quickly. “Are you sure you’re uninjured? Doesn’t look like it was an easy landing.”

She huffed. “You can say that again. Got smacked by an asteroid or something on the way down. I’m not uninjured. I am, in fact, dealing with what is probably a minor concussion and at least a couple broken ribs. I am in a lot of pain, but I can’t exactly just sit here, now can I?” She levelled her all-black and rather unsettling eyes on Sung. “Now, can you and your uh, friends help, or did you just come out here to gawk?” 

Laughing, Sung said, “We’ll see what we can do. I’m Doctor Sung, and these three are Havve Hogan, Lord Phobos, and Commander Meouch, my friends and fellow Grove Crusaders.”

One of her eyebrows rose, her expression skeptical. “Really?” She let out an exasperated laugh when Sung nodded. “Well then, Doctor Sung, my name is Reverence, and I would be ever so grateful if you and your _colourful_ friends would take a look at my ship.” 

* * *

_Commander Meouch, five years ago—_

“So how exactly did you end up in this mess?” 

Reverence looked up at Meouch as he sat down beside her. She’d been inputting something in the computer embedded in her metal arm, a trait Meouch hadn’t noticed until a few moments ago. “An asteroid or some piece of space junk hit me and I crashed,” she said, her tone indignant. 

“But why were you coming here? There’s, uh, not much on this planet.” 

“You’re here.” 

“We go wherever we’re needed.” 

Her all-black eyes narrowed—which had a rather disconcerting effect—and her lips pressed into a thin line. Suspicious, this Reverence. Cautious. Meouch had never encountered anyone who looked like her before, and he’d spent a lot of time in the less-travelled areas of the galaxy, but he could appreciate her attitude. 

“And what is it you guys do? And why do most of you wear masks? It’s fucking creepy.” 

“You don’t seem particularly creeped out.” 

“I hide it well.” 

She said it with such a straight face, with such defiance in her expression, that Meouch couldn’t help but laugh. He saw her press her lips together again, but she seems less annoyed. “Only Sung and Phobos wear masks. Havve is a cyborg, so that’s just his face.”

“And you?”

“I’m just a lion.”

Her eyes narrowed again, but one corner of her mouth was pulled up, betraying the smile she was suppressing. “I guess I’m lucky you bunch of weirdos decided to come and investigate my crash, whatever it was that brought you here, so I shouldn’t be too picky.” Meouch watched her sigh and silently willed her to answer his question. “Someone is paying me to map this system for them,” she said eventually. 

“Why would anyone want a map of this system?” 

Reverence shrugged, causing some of her blue hair to fall over her shoulder. Like the rest of her, it was quite dirty. “I don’t ask too many questions, as long as I get paid.” She sighed, her eyes scanning the damaged ship, debris, and burned scenery around them. “Although, I’m not going to get nearly enough to cover this disaster, not when I already had stuff to repair and upgrade.” 

“Eh, we’ll help get you flying again, anyway. We’re good at that.”

“What? The bare minimum?” 

Meouch laughed as he got to his feet. “Sure. Let’s say that. It’s not like we’ve been travelling space and time for longer than you’ve likely been alive or anything…”

Reverence jumped up as Meouch started to walk away and, once again, he couldn’t help but laugh at her eagerness and unmistakable curiosity. She was surly, sure, but he’d read her correctly. Just like all of the Groove Crusaders, the thrill of the unknown and discovery drove her, despite what she might say or what she used to keep herself afloat. Just like them, she’d probably never stop moving. Not for a long while anyway.

“Wait? What did you say? You guys travel through _time_?” 

“What? Like it’s hard?” 

* * *

_Lord Phobos, five years ago—_

From his position on top of the crashed ship, near the gouge in the hull, Phobos could hear all of Meouch’s conversation with Reverence. He rolled his eyes behind his helmet. Sung had disappeared into the ship with Havve to check on the ship’s various systems and see what they could do, leave Phobos out here to assess the physical damage. Meouch was supposed to be helping, but that hadn’t happened yet. 

Just as he opened his mouth to berate Meouch for being lazy, the lion climbed up onto the hull, blue-haired, black-eyed Reverence hot on his figurative tail. 

“How’s my ship?” Reverence asked. 

Phobos could detect a tremor of legitimate concern in her voice—and in the flutter of heart, picked up through his helmet’s enhanced sensors. She was worried she’d never fly again. “Your ship will be fine. The damage is mostly superficial. You managed to land pretty well, considering.” 

If she was taken back by the robotic voice his helmet allowed him, she showed no sign. Instead she sagged with relief. “Oh thank fuck,” she muttered. “Good. That’s good.” Seeming to have forgotten Phobos and Meouch were standing there, Reverence moved over to the broken hatch and climbed out of sight, presumably going to check on Sung’s and Havve’s progress. 

“Guess she had other places to be,” Meouch said as he grabbed a scanner from the pouch on his hip and set to work. 

For a while, they worked in silence, gathering data about the _Starskipper_ and what had sent it plummeting to the backwater planet Reverence had evidently been meant to map. Phobos had taken the initiative to verify Reverence’s story, finding a nearly state-of-the-art stellar cartography suite in her old ship, and hundreds of digital maps stored in her ship’s computer. They didn’t know her and he didn’t trust her. He’d seen supposedly friendly, innocent faces destroy entire civilizations and worlds just because they could, or just because they’d been ordered to. 

Hell, _his_ world had been destroyed by someone he now called a friend, but it took time to earn trust, and it took Phobos what some might call _a lot_ of time to trust someone. 

“How long do you think helping her is going to take?” Meouch asked suddenly. 

“A couple days at most. Why?” 

“I was hoping to be done with this place and well on our way to the next spot by now,” Meouch lamented. “We’ve been here too long.”

“We’ve been here _five days_.” 

“It’s _too long._ This place is fucking boring. We did our part. The city has begun rebuilding. We can swing back around in a little while to check on things, but there is literally nothing to do here.”

Phobos rolled his eyes again as he finished scanning the hull and let loose an exasperated sigh that rattled electronically. “We’re doing this, so suck it up.” 

“You know, ever since you got a voice, you’re a lot ruder than you used to be.” 

Phobos snorted, a sound that never came across right through his helmet. Meouch got the message anyway. “Hurry up, you lazy ass. The faster we get this job done, the faster we can move on to whatever’s next, as you so clearly want.” 

There was a _thunk_ and the world shook slightly as Meouch threw a chunk of the ship at the back of Phobos’s head. 

Phobos steadfastly ignored Meouch and climbed down into the ship proper where Sung, Havve, and Reverence stood in front of one of the computers, studying the readouts as Havve pointed at the screen and communicated with Sung. As he joined them, Phobos could see that the internal systems were all functioning normally with the exception of one sensor array. 

“Looks like good news,” he said, by way of announcing his presence. 

Reverence jumped and turned, almost like she was ready to attack, but instead she just settled back against the console. “Has no one ever told you that it’s not nice to sneak up on people?” 

“I wasn’t sneaking.” 

“I was just telling Rev here that it shouldn’t take too long to get her ship space-worthy again,” Sung said. “Then we can be on our way and she can get to mapping this place.” 

Phobos was looking at Sung, but he still caught the look that crossed Reverence’s face. She didn’t want to map this place anymore than Meouch wanted to stay a second longer than he had to. Oh well, Reverence’s issues with her work were none of Phobos’s business. “The damaged sections of hull will be easy enough to replace or repair with what we have on board _Ladyworld_ —”

“Your ship is named _Ladyworld_?” 

“Yeah, what of it?” 

She held Phobos’s gaze a few seconds longer before she burst out laughing, colour darkening her pale, freckled cheeks. “Who the hell are you guys?” It was a rhetorical exclamation, but Phobos felt himself smiling behind his helmet, the expression safe where no one could see it.

Sung, however, was smiling brightly for all to see. The man could never school his expressions. Or hide them, even though his eyes were usually obscured by his visor. “When you’re done mapping this place, you should come travel with us for a while.”

“What? Sung, no,” Phobos said, his electronic voice putting more snap in his words than he’d attended. 

Havve turned towards Sung at the same moment, the red lights of his eyes somehow narrowed and expressing his displeasure. 

* * *

_Havve Hogan, five years ago—_

01000001 01100010 01110011 01101111 01101100 01110101 01110100 01100101 01101100 01111001 00100000 01101110 01101111 01110100 00101110

(Absolutely not.)

* * *

_Commander Meouch, now—_

“How are those shields coming?” Sung called from the bridge, his voice barely reaching them in the depths of _Ladyworld_. 

“Working on it!” Meouch yelled back. He looked over to where Phobos was working on the other half of the shield generators. “You got them in position yet?” 

“Almost.”

Meouch turned back to his half of the generators, but his mind was only partially on the—thankfully simple—task or realigning them. He kept thinking back on when they’d met Reverence on the boring backwater planet he’d long since forgotten the name of. They’d fixed the hull of her ship, made sure everything was in good working order, and then they’d left, on their way to their next adventure. 

But not before Sung had invited Reverence to meet up and travel with them for a while when she was done with her map or whatever it was she was doing.

There was nothing wrong with the invitation, and Meouch might have even liked having her around at that stage—it got a little monotonous travelling with the same people all the time—but it had been a strange move for Sung, since they didn’t know Reverence. Like, at all. And there were only a few people who’d travelled with the Groove Crusaders since they’d started doing their thing ages ago. There were only a few people who could handle skipping through time and space as much as they did.

That wouldn’t have even been such a problem, really, since Doc was usually an excellent judge of character, except that an hour out from the planet, _their_ ship had decided to crap out, leaving them stranded until their friend, the Space Cowboy, could come and rescue them. They found a small chunk of the _Starskipper_ ’s hull wedged in one of the engines. Since Reverence had never been anywhere near their ship, it was a mystery how the hunk of metal had ended up there, but that didn’t stop them from holding Reverence at least partially responsible. If not directly, then because of some force of bad luck that followed her, the same bad luck that led that asteroid into the side of her ship in an area normally perfectly safe to travel.

Was it fair? Definitely not.

Was it because she wasn’t there to point a finger elsewhere? Totally.

Did Meouch feel bad about it? Eh, not really. 

That force of bad luck did seem to follow Reverence around, after all. Every time they’d run into her, something had gone awry and she was lost or stuck or without money or supplies. And every time they’d helped her out of a bad situation, the bad luck had seemingly passed to them. The ship would break, someone would get sick, one of their instruments—either musical or on the ship—would stop working, they would end up in the wrong time or at the wrong place… 

It became a sort of running joke, to blame her for anything bad that happened, even if they hadn’t seen her in a while. They’d never leave her stranded or in danger though, and they certainly weren’t going to leave her stuck in a time bubble, stagnant while the universe moved at who-the-hell-knew what speed around her. 

Or was she the one moving fast?

Were they going to get through the bubble, only to find her ship a lifeless shell and a skeleton where the blue-haired K’nossian should be? 

Messing with time could be such a bitch.

Meouch reined his thoughts in and finished realigning his half of the shield generators. Phobos had apparently finished a few moments ago, because Meouch was alone now, only the mechanical whirring of the ship’s machinery to keep him company. He actually liked time travelling—most of the time. With a small huff, he climbed back to the _Ladyworld_ ’s bridge, where he found the others huddled around Havve’s terminal as the cyborg scanned through screen after screen and typed code at lightning speed, attempting to find the right whatever to get them through the buddle; Meouch wasn’t even going to attempt to understand the math behind any of this.

“How’s it going?” he asked.

“Not sure,” Sung answered. “Not well, I think.” There was a touch of worry creeping into his normally sunny voice. 

Meouch felt worry gathering in his chest as well. It wasn’t like Reverence was all bad. She certainly didn’t deserve to die like this. The Groove Crusaders didn’t rescue a lot of people, but they’d never failed a rescue before. 

Meouch didn’t want to start now.

* * *

_Reverence, two and a half years ago—_

“Why did I buy this hunk of junk?” 

A loud _clang_ rang out as Reverence drove her foot into the side of the _Starskipper_ ’s engine casing, the old metal dimpling slightly around her toe. The K’nossian sighed loudly and covered her face with her hands before sliding her fingers back into her tangled blue hair. She’d pulled it back and out of the way as she attempted to get her ship moving again, but, as per usual, it had started falling out almost immediately and was now sticking to her sweaty cheeks.

An alarm went up from the auxiliary command terminal in the engine room, startling Reverence. “Fucking hell, what now?” she muttered. 

But it wasn’t a problem with the ship—it was a proximity alarm. Reverence brought up the report, the computer feeding the footage from the bridge to her. It was a ship.

A familiar one. 

_Ladyworld_.

A strange mix of excitement, anticipation, and frustration rose inside. She’d run into the Groove Crusaders a few times since they’d met almost three years ago, and every time had been a combination of fun, danger, and bad luck. There was something about the group of time travelling… musicians? Positivity dealers? Funk smugglers? It had been years and Reverence _still_ didn’t know exactly what it was they spent their time doing. Regardless, they had a habit of showing up when she was in some sort of sticky situation, and they had a habit of blaming her for anything bad that happened to them after meeting up. 

Were they right? Possibly. It did often feel like there was a spectre of bad luck following Reverence as she ping-ponged around the stars making maps and writing down stories—it had since she’d met the Groove Crusaders that first time. Was it karma? Had she picked up some sort of poltergeist-esque alien lifeform on one of her jobs? Was there something haunting the ship? 

Reverence cast a cautious glance over her shoulder, the hair on the back of her neck prickling like someone was watching her. “Too good at spooking myself,” she muttered as she turned back to the display showing the Groove Crusaders’ ship slowly moving into position so they could connect airlocks and Sung and the rest could board _Starskipper_. Part of Reverence wanted to deny them access, but there was a not insignificant part of her that was actually looking forward to seeing them again. 

_“_ Ladyworld _to_ Starskipper— _are we cleared for docking?”_

Despite herself, a smile crept across Reverence’s face at the sound of Doctor Sung’s characteristically happy voice. She pressed the button to connect her to her ship’s communication system. “Cleared, _Ladyworld_. Can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I’m actually glad to see you.” 

Laughter came over the comms and Reverence’s smile grew. 

_Damn him_ , she thought as she half-jogged, half-skipped her way out of the engine room and over to the airlock and decontamination chamber. She was still smiling however, so he wouldn’t be damned too much.

She watched _Ladyworld_ maneuver expertly into place—the skill level only made sense since, as far as she could tell, the Groove Crusaders spent at least 75% of their time on board and flying around—through the airlock door window, and then keyed in the sequence at the nearby terminal to extend the docking clamps. There was a satisfying _kachunk_ as the ships connected and the _woosh_ of air as the airlock pressurized. 

Only Sung and Meouch entered the airlock, the doors of their ship closing automatically behind them, but through the small viewports, Reverence could see Phobos still on _Ladyworld_ ; she assumed Havve was on the bridge, handling everything from up there. She watched the lights of the decontamination scan Sung and Meouch, and then stepped back when they were clean so the doors could open and they could enter _Starskipper_ proper. 

“What have you gotten yourself into this time, Rev?” Meouch asked in his easy way, crossing his arms as he looked around the ship’s central corridor. 

“Engine trouble.”

“When was the last time you were at a repair station?” Sung asked. 

“I’ll have you know I was on my way to one when she gave out, thank you very much.” 

Reverence started back towards the engine room, Sung and Meouch following in her wake without question. She’d spotted diagnostic tools on Meouch’s belt and in Sung’s hand, so she’d take them to the source of the problem; she would have made some crack about them anticipating issues, but her ship was dead in the black and the distress was obvious. She’d probably say something later anyway.

Inside the engine room, Reverence slapped a hand on the grimy metal casting. “Work your magic, boys.” 

* * *

_Doctor Sung, two and a half years ago—_

“Not so fast,” Sung said, grinning when Reverence shot him a wary look. “This time we need some help from you as well.” A small part of him was deeply pleased by the shock on Reverence’s face at his words. 

That shock quickly morphed to satisfaction though, and she said, “Are you sure you want help from me? What if it causes some catastrophic damage to your ship and I’m nowhere in range to blame?” 

Meouch snorted from his position in the engine room doorway, and Sung’s grin grew. “I think we’ll take the risk, considering we need to replace some key elements of our ship. We’re in the middle of a long journey.” 

“Well then, I guess I’m lucky you all stumbled across my stranded ass yet again.” Reverence headed back into the hall, pushing passed Meouch and waving for Sung to follow. “You can start scanning the engine, Cat Man,” she said, and Sung could see by the glint in her eye that she knew just how much Meouch hated that nickname. “You and I can go through my inventory and see if I have anything that’ll help. It’s not like I have any money, so might as well give you what I can spare.” 

“Who says we don’t want money as well?” Reverence levelled an indignant look at him, her blue eyebrows raised over her all-black eyes, and Sung laughed again. “I kid, I kid.”

“No shit.”

They reached the bridge and Reverence moved passed Sung to the main computer terminal, her fingers flying across the controls as she brought up the list of everything she had in storage. Sung just watched her as she worked, impressed that, as usual, she was calm and collected, if a little frustrated to find herself in yet another situation where she needed help. In the time they’d spent together, the two of them had exchanged enough words for Sung to know she didn’t like asking for or needing help, and she didn’t like that it always seemed the Groove Crusaders were coming to her rescue. 

As she’d once said, “I’d probably like you better if you weren’t constantly saving my stupid ass and I could be anything other than the ‘damsel in distress’ in your eyes, but I like you well enough. I guess.” 

Sung didn’t mind though, and he was pretty sure none of the others did either.

At least, he hoped they didn’t. No one had said anything about it.

Regardless, he’d tried to assure Reverence that he didn’t think of her as a damsel in distress anyway, but his words only went so far. Reverence was many things, and stubborn was about seven of them. 

“Feel free to take whatever you want—but make sure you leave me with some extra power cores and rations. You know, the stuff you always need extras off.” 

Sung stepped up to the computer as she moved away and started scrolling through the list. _Starskipper_ was well stocked—except for the parts they’d need to repair the engines, probably. Actually, anything Reverence might need for repairs was either absent from the list or in very short supply. He rolled his eyes.

Typical.

He smiled.

* * *

_Commander Meouch, two and half years ago—_

As Sung and Reverence disappeared down the corridor, Meouch set about scanning the massive old and pieced-together engine with the diagnostic tool Sung had insisted he bring. At first he’d questioned why they’d both need one, but the answer became clear as soon as Meouch found himself alone: Sung had expected to go off with Reverence at some point. 

Meouch wasn’t actually surprised. More often than not, the two of them broke away eventually to talk about something, stargaze, or who the hell knew what else. He didn’t mind. Kept her out of his mane. 

It took him almost no time to find the problem—worn out couplings in most, if not all, the moving parts. Thankfully, it was an easy fix. Between Havve and Meouch, they’d have it done in a few hours at most, provided no other problems reared their ugly heads which, because this was Reverence’s ship, they probably would. But, the _Starskipper_ ’s engine was a similar make to the _Ladyworld_ ’s, and couplings were pretty cheap and, because they were one of the first things to go when travelling the stars, always sold in bulk. _Ladyworld_ had literal cases of them on board.

The most basic of a plan in place—and really, nothing else was needed—Meouch headed up to the bridge to relay his findings. He was only a little surprised to find Sung and Reverence looking at a 3D rendition of one of her stellar maps, heads bent together over the table, and even from across the room, Meouch could see the light in the K’nossian’s eyes as she pointed out details on the map. 

She may bitch a blue storm about her ship and travelling and boring planets, but she loved every second of it. 

“If it matters, I’ve found the problem with your ship,” he announced loudly. 

The pair of them started like he’d caught them in a compromising position and stepped away from the map. Meouch laughed—he did enjoy poking fun where he could—and after a moment the others did as well. 

“Well, what’s the matter with my girl?” Reverence asked, the fondness in her voice betraying the worry she’d been downplaying in favour of frustration. 

“I don’t know that I’ve ever heard you refer to the _Starskipper_ as ‘my girl’ before,” Sung said. 

Reverence waved him off, her attention on Meouch. “Well?”

“It’s just the engine couplings,” he answered after a practiced moment of hesitation. “Hardly a problem.”

“Except that’s pretty much the one thing I _don’t_ have.” 

“Don’t worry—there’s enough in your storage holds to more than cover the cost,” Sung said.

Reverence huffed, resigned. “Just don’t leave the holds completely empty. That’s all I ask.” 

“We’ll have to see about that. I’ll get Havve over here and you, Sung, and Phibs can take care of our _payment,_ ” Meouch said, grinning. 

“All right,” Reverence said with some resignation. “I’ll go fetch your red and gold friend and the cyborg and we can get to work. You know where the holds are,” she said to Sung, indicating that he should start gathering what the Groove Crusaders wanted. And then she half-jogged back to the airlock. 

“You could ask her to come with us again, you know,” Meouch said once he and Sung were alone. 

“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sung cleared his throat as they reached the junction where they’d have to diverge. “Besides, I don’t think she’d want to leave her ship for very long, do you?” 

Meouch snorted. “Probably not. But I’m just saying—the rest of us won’t have a problem if you want to invite her again. You two seem to have…” 

“You’re about to say something sappy, aren’t you?” 

He shrugged with one shoulder. “Do whatever, bud. I was just saying.”

“Point taken, Meouch.” Sung touched two fingers to his visor in a salute before he vanished down to the storage holds. 

Meouch sighed, wondering why he’d even bothered, before he returned to the engine room to start prying the old couplings free. After an extended period of hopping through time, it would feel good to stay in one time, one place, and do some physical work.

At least, that was the hope.

* * *

_Lord Phobos, two and a half years ago—_

“I’m just saying, it’s not fair to blame me for all your bad luck and all the bad things that happen. It’s not like I’m prancing around your ship, cursing everything. I wouldn’t even know how to curse a ship. You know, if I ever actually wanted to.” 

“That’s because curses aren’t real. You’re just bad luck incarnate. That’s all.”

“Oh? Is that all?” 

Phobos couldn’t stop himself from chuckling at Reverence’s response. She’d somehow made it clear with the tone of her voice—loud and projected across one of _Ladyworld_ ’s holds as she helped him load up the cargo they were taking on from the _Starskipper_ —that she was rolling her eyes and was equally amused and annoyed. They’d been talking about the Groove Crusaders’ habit of blaming her for anything bad, so her reaction was understandable. 

“How did you find out about the bad luck thing anyway?” he asked. The digital representation of his voice echoed oddly in the cargo hold; Phobos had never liked the way he sounded in the big spaces.

“Sung told me,” Reverence answered after a moment, though Phobos wasn’t sure if it was because she didn’t want to answer or because she was moving a box. “It was a couple months ago for me. Don’t know how long for you guys. I don’t know how you stand it,” she added as an afterthought. “I often ponder you spacemen, bouncing around… I don’t know how the hell you stand it,” she said again. 

“I don’t know either.” 

It was the truth, though perhaps only the most basic version of it. Way back at the beginning of the Groover Crusaders’ journey, he’d been apprehensive about sticking around, partly due to his less-than-peaceful history with Meouch, and partly due to the idea of never being in the same place or time for long. Sure it was exciting. Sure it was fun. So he’d stuck it out. Found joy in every part of it. 

But maybe, after nearly a decade—if you were measuring time in the regular way—it was starting to wear on him a bit. 

Maybe. 

Not that he’d admit that out loud to anyone, and especially not to Reverence. Though, bad luck aside, she wasn’t all bad. But Phobos was pretty sure he was warming to her only because her relentless habit of popping up was making him—and all of them—used to her presence more than anything else.

In instances like this, where she was basically stocking them up for a long journey for free, except for a crate of engine couplings, her recurring presence was beneficial. And welcome.

“There’s only one more bin to grab,” he said, moving from between the crates until he could see Reverence’s blue hair. “I’ll check on Havve and Meouch and your ship’s engine. I think Sung went up to the bridge if you wanted to say goodbye.” 

“You’re really going to leave me unsupervised on your ship?” Her black eyes flashed mischievously. “What about all my contagious bad luck?” 

“We’re not moving right now. What’s the worst that could happen?” 

* * *

_Havve Hogan, two and a half year ago—_

01010011 01101000 01100101 00100000 01101011 01101001 01101100 01101100 01100101 01100100 00100000 01101101 01111001 00100000 01100011 01100001 01100011 01110100 01110101 01110011 01100101 01110011 00101110 00001010

(She killed my cactuses.)

* * *

_Reverence, two and a half years ago—_

“Okay, that actually was my fault. Sorry.”

* * *

_Lord Phobos, now—_

Eventually, though it took much longer than any of them had been hoping, Havve got the shields calibrated properly and the Groove Crusaders prepared to take _Ladyworld_ through the time bubble.

Time bubbles weren’t like travelling through time it turned out. Deliberately moving back and forth through the flow of time was something that could be calculated with a decent degree of precision and was, to those experienced, relatively easy and predictable. Time bubbles on the other hand were evidently much more random and volatile, and, based on the little research Phobos had been able to sneak in, sometimes held people still in time, sometimes catapulted them to some random point in time, and who knew what else. Their unpredictability was one of the reasons it had taken so long for Havve to find a way through.

_Ladyworld_ rattled and shook as the shields absorbed the bizarre forces of pushing through time and space in such an uncontrolled manner. They’d all strapped into their seats to weather the assault. Havve was hunched over the helm, Sung at the currently useless navigation console beside him, and Meouch was at the front in one of the observation seats next to Phobos. While the others were watching _Starskipper_ grow closer, Phobos couldn’t tear his eyes from the flaring colours at the point of contact between _Ladyworld_ ’s shields and the bubble.

It was beautiful. 

Dangerous and terrifying too. 

Just when Phobos was sure _Ladyworld_ ’s alarms would start blaring and the ship would start falling apart, all motion and noise ceased. For a few seconds, no one moved. Nothing moved. The small world of the bubble was at a complete standstill, everyone saying a silent thank you to still be in one piece and alive. 

But then all of them looked out the viewscreen at the _Starskipper_ , hanging quiet in the black, and the relief was replaced by tension and worry, sudden and intense despite being expected. 

Sung was the first to free himself from the restraints so he could get to a scanner. Phobos followed next and Meouch sooner after, the three of them waiting for signs of life while Havve kept an eye on the ship, on the bubble, on the interaction of the two. It was Havve’s job to keep them alive so they could rescue—or, more grimly, retrieve—Reverence. 

The computer beeped once as it finished its scan. 

“Well?” Phobos asked, trying to lean closer to see the screen. 

“Faint life signs,” Meouch replied. “And getting fainter.” 

Sung didn’t say anything. He just left the bridge, headed for the airlock at a determined clip, no doubt issuing a silent suggestion to Havve that now might be a good time to get the ship docked and connected. When the ship started moving a second later, Phobos’s suspicion was confirmed.

Phobos and Meouch watched Sung go, only following the minute the computer beeped again, telling them that now there were no longer any life signs on board the _Starskipper_.

* * *

_Havve Hogan, now—_

01001111 01101000 00100000 01101110 01101111 00101110

(Oh no.)

* * *

_Reverence, six months ago—_

For once, Reverence was stumbling upon _Ladyworld_ in need of assistance instead of the other way around. 

She might have let out a yell of triumph—she nearly did, in fact—but then she noticed the ship wasn’t moving. After a sudden appearance, either via FTL or time travel, the stillness was weird and immediately set Reverence on edge. She’d been around the Groove Crusaders enough to know that their ship was rarely still and, even when they didn’t have a destination, they preferred to keep moving until something caught their attention. She recalibrated her course and made for the ship, worry settling in her gut. 

That worry increased when no response to her hails came. _Ladyworld_ was dead, unresponsive in the black. She chewed her bottom lip as she maneuvered her ship into place and managed to get a soft seal on the airlock—it wouldn’t hold up to any movement from either ship and was only meant for emergencies. She thought this qualified. 

Nervously, Reverence pulled on her exosuit and helmet and stepped into _Starskipper_ ’s airlock, shifting from foot to foot as she waited for the exterior door to open. She’d set the computer embedded in her arm to scan for life signs so she wouldn’t be caught off guard or miss anything, and it’s steady low beeps, which she could hear inside her suit, were reassuring. 

What felt like an eternity later, Reverence found herself in the bay outside the airlock on _Ladyworld_ , her all-black eyes roving the dimly lit ship for any sign of what had happened or where her friends were. She didn’t think she’d ever referred to Sung, Meouch, Phobos, and Havve as her friends before, but that’s what they were. They might not have seen each other a whole lot, but she didn’t want to think of her life without them—and she certainly didn’t want anything to happen to them. 

After she’d taken her suit and helmet off—life support was still on and functioning, thank the stars—Reverence made her way deeper into the ship, headed for the bridge. It was a direct line from the airlock to the bridge, but she kept alert and ready for anyone or anything to jump out. 

“What the hell happened here?” she whispered to herself as she walked. Her footsteps were loud in the silence. Her mind started spinning up images of extra-dimensional beings, picked up while the boys were hopping through time. “My bad luck strikes again…” 

But nothing jumped out. 

And on the bridge, Reverence found four green lights in the cryo chamber. 

“Oh thank fuck you guys aren’t dead,” she said aloud, sagging with relief. There were no other life signs on the ship, which made Reverence feel instantly better, even if something from another universe or dimension might not register. “Chances are small,” she reminded herself as she headed for the cryotubes. 

_Starskipper_ had three cryotubes, but Reverene had never had occasion to use one—with the advent of FTL drives, they’d become rather obsolete, but no one had felt comfortable enough to let them go completely. She’d had a conversation about the practice of cryogenically freezing space travellers with Sung once, and he’d told her they only used the tubes on _Ladyworld_ if they were making a jump that might have been dangerous, or in case of emergency. 

She hoped something hadn’t driven them in there and it had just been for safety’s sake. From what she’d been able to tell on the bridge, the ship was in fine working order, so it would have had to be an external emergency…

“Stop letting your imagination run away with you,” she muttered. 

The cryotubes loomed eerily in the dim auxiliary lighting as she entered the chamber, and the forms of her friends were silhouetted ominously. It almost looked as if three of them were floating; Havve, on the other hand, looked solid and heavy and staid even in the chamber. She could imagine the cyborg cursing his human bits, since he otherwise could have weathered anything—even the vacuum of space—and wouldn’t have need of cryogenics. 

You know, if he ever spoke.

For a moment, she just stood there, taking in the sight of her frozen friends, and taking in the knowledge that they were alive and unharmed. Then she moved to the console and started waking them up.

Sung was first—there wasn’t even any hesitation as she made her choice. 

The pod opened and Sung’s good eyelid fluttered until he could see, his scarred eye twitching as if it wanted to open as well. His entire body moved when he started coughing a second later as the cryo fluid was expelled; the adjustment after thawing wasn’t easy. He stumbled from the pod and would have collapsed, had Reverence not been there to catch him with her metal arm.

“Aren’t you a sight—”

“Please don’t finish that hackneyed greeting, Sung.” But Reverence was smiling. Not only was he alive and in one piece, he was in his usual spirits too.

“It’s true though.”

She helped him back onto his feet and said, “Sure it is. What the hell happened?” 

“We, uh, kind of ended up stuck in the past for a while on some extremely weird planet and decided to take a really big chance that we could get back to this time—it worked though, so no harm done.”

“I am not even going to ask for details.” 

“Probably a good idea.” 

“I am glad you’re okay though.”

Sung hugged her tightly—and quite suddenly—and she wasn’t even startled by how cold he still was. She returned the hug with the same ferocity and the tension inside her unknotted instantly. “I’m glad you showed up when you did,” Sung said as they parted. Something in his voice had changed. 

Reverence followed his gaze to the cryo control console and the flashing error message she’d missed in her haste and fear. “Shit.”

* * *

_Doctor Sung, six months ago—_

As Reverence got Phobos, Meouch, and Havve awake and moving, Sung made for the bridge, not even bothering to change out of the skintight cryo suit they had to wear to connect to the tube. He had to make sure everything else was okay and they’d arrived where and when they’d hoped they would—not that he would complain too much if they hadn’t, since Reverence had been there to wake them up when the computer had malfunctioned and erased the wake-up time Havve had set for them.

Sung knew something else was amiss the minute his feet hit the bridge. He’d been travelling with the other Groove Crusaders long enough to know how they moved about and inhabited a space, and thus how they left things. He even knew Reverence well enough to know she kept her ship neat and respected other people’s things for the most part. 

Which meant someone had searched the bridge and likely the entire ship. 

“I think we’ve been robbed,” he said when several sets of footsteps thundered up behind him.

“Robbed? By who? When? What did they take?” Meouch asked.

“I don’t know yet, but the bridge is a mess—”

“You can say that again,” Phobos agreed as he toed a pile of discarded objects. 

“—and someone has clearly touched _everything_.” Meouch took off like a shot, headed towards their quarters, probably to check on his bass guitars and the other instruments. Sung caught Reverence’s gaze. “You look like you’ve taken a bite out of a lemon.”

“I… I walked through the whole ship from the airlock to the bridge and then to the cryo chamber and didn’t notice anything amiss.” 

He reached over and put a hand on her shoulder, resisting the urge to hug her again, although he wasn’t sure why. “Don’t worry about it. We’re all okay and awake thanks to you. And you don’t know _Ladyworld_ as well as we do.” 

Reverence sniffed, tears pooling in her eyes. They didn’t fall, but Sung was still surprised to see them there. “If whoever was here had hurt any of you—” She clenched her jaw and then released it, her shoulders falling by an inch or two as well. “Well. I guess you’re right. You’re all in one piece.” She forced a flickering smile. “I don’t know how much I can help doing inventory, but point me in a direction and I’ll do what I can.” 

Sung frowned. Reverence was acting weird—for her, anyway. “Okay… Why don’t you check the records for any glimpse of who this was why we see if they took anything?” 

She looked at him for a moment longer, nodded once, and then moved across the bridge. 

* * *

_Commander Meouch, six months ago—_

“You look extremely confused, bud, which is not what I would expect right now,” Meouch said when Sung walked into the hallway where their quarters were located. 

“I am confused about how this all happened, and when and why, but I’m mostly confused about how Reverence is acting.” 

“Mhm.” Meouch leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed loosely. “She was worried about us—more specifically, you—and, since she spends her time travelling through space _alone,_ I’m guessing she’s not sure why she’s so worried, but it’s obvious to the rest of us. Except maybe you.” 

Sung turned to look at Meouch, the eyebrow over his good eye raised in a questioning expression. “Oh?”

Meouch waved him off. “If you don’t know, I’m not going to tell you. You’ll have to figure it out. It’s not my place to meddle.”

“What—” Sung cut himself off and gave his head a shake. “Whatever. Is anything of yours missing?” 

“Just money from various planets and a couple trinkets that someone might be able to sell. Nothing identifiable and nothing super important. None of the instruments or anything, thankfully.” The relief Meouch had felt at finding everything important to him still in his room and still in working order was a feeling he wasn’t soon to forget, and after the rapid spike and release of adrenaline, Meouch was tired. Languid. All he wanted to do was sleep, but there was more to do first.

“Good.” 

“Robberies aren’t common in space, you know.” 

“I agree. They had to know we had stuff worth taking. And who we were. And where we were going to be.” 

“Or… they just got super lucky. Or we’re just _that_ unlucky. And I won’t even blame this one on Rev, since this had to have happened before we jumped. Or while we jumped.”

“Or right after we jumped?” 

“Was there time?”

“I don’t know. I’ll head back to the bridge and see what Rev and Havve found in a minute.” 

“Was it wise to leave those two alone? You know he’s still pissed about those cactuses she killed.” 

Sung had vanished into his room, so when he answered, his voice was slightly muffled. “That was two years ago I think. It’ll be fine.”

Meouch moved to the doorway of Sung’s room, his arms still crossed and his mind wrestling with the anger at _Ladyworld_ being broken into and amusement at the idea of Havve chasing Reverence around for accidentally killing his plants. The amusement was easier and better—nothing had been taken that couldn’t be replaced, so the violation of the break-in would fade. Anger would solve nothing. 

There was a sudden crash from the direction of the bridge, followed by the unmistakable sound of Reverence yelping.

Meouch snorted; it didn’t sound like she was actually in any danger, so he felt comfortable remaining amused. “Are you really sure it’s okay?” he asked when Sung appeared, making sure to put mirth into his expression.

Sung rolled his good eye, but he was smiling. “We’d better go make sure she’s still alive.” 

* * *

_Lord Phobos, six months ago—_

Once he was satisfied that none of his guitars or equipment or books had been taken by whoever had robbed them, Lord Phobos set about checking the rest of the ship. Reverence and Havve were looking for any sign of the burglars, and Sung and Meouch were checking their own quarters, and everything seemed calm. Or, relatively calm, anyway. 

Phobos found no sign that anything integral to the ship’s operation had been taken, and nothing seemed damaged either. The cryo computer being messed with had likely been an accident or the criminals had just wanted to be sure they wouldn’t wake up and hadn’t realized they would just… remain frozen until someone found them. 

For the first time in their acquaintance, Phobos was actually glad Reverence had crossed their path. He wouldn’t even mind if bad luck reared its head after this—nothing could be worse than remaining frozen for who knew how long. 

They could have been frozen _forever_. 

He left the cryo room and went to the last room on his tour: the engine room. It was a small room and, with the shield generators and other equipment, rather cramped, and it didn’t take Phobos long to determine that whoever had broken into their ship hadn’t been there for more than a few minutes, if at all. So, feeling much better than he had moments before, Phobos headed back up the bridge. 

Just in time to hear a crash and a yelp. 

“Shit.” 

He ran the rest of the way to the bridge to find a strange tableau. Reverence was crouched on top of one of the computer consoles and her flesh-and-blood arm had a nasty red spot on it, Havve was standing in front of her, shoulders raised like he was a puffed-up cat, and Sung and Meouch were standing just inside the door wearing matching half-amused, half-exasperated expressions.

“Is this about the cactus?” Phobos asked, barely able to keep his laughter out of his voice; he didn’t want the helmet picking it up.

Havve nodded emphatically and pointed at Reverence. 

“I know she killed your cactus—”

Havve’s eyes flashed and his head tilted to one side.

“Okay, I know she killed _several_ of your cactuses, but that was two years ago, Havve—”

The cyborg’s red eyes flashed again.

“I’ll buy you more cactuses!” Reverence interjected, panic clear in her voice. 

Sung, Meouch, and Phobos all gestured towards her, and they somehow all managed matching pleading expressions, asking if that was enough to placate the cyborg who really loved his cactuses. 

After a long, tense moment, Havve nodded. 

“Okay, now apologize for pinching her,” Sung said.

Phobos burst out laughing.

* * *

_Havve Hogan, six months ago—_

01010111 01101000 01100001 01110100 00100000 01100100 01101111 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00100000 01101101 01100101 01100001 01101110 00100000 _01001001_ 00100000 01101000 01100001 01110110 01100101 00100000 01110100 01101111 00100000 01100001 01110000 01101111 01101100 01101111 01100111 01101001 01111010 01100101 00111111 00100000 00001010

(What do you mean _I_ have to apologize?)

* * *

_Reverence, now—_

As the world began to reassert itself to Reverence’s senses, she realized the true meaning of pain, and really, _really_ wished the world would just shuffle on back into the darkness and let her keep sleeping. Keep dreaming. And remembering good—or better—times. She’d sleep forever if it meant she never had to feel that—

_Oh. Right. I_ would _have slept forever. I would have died._

Not particularly ready for anything so final as death, Reverence let the pain wash over her body, let all her nerve endings scream, and then she opened her eyes. 

The first thing she saw was a blur of orange and black. The first thing she saw in focus was a familiar moustache. The second thing she saw in focus was the familiar visored visage of Doctor Sung. Reverence felt relief—she hadn’t even realized she’d been worried about where she’d wake up—and then she felt anger, deciding it was Sung’s fault for the pain she was in. 

“What the fuck did you do to me?” she asked, mildly alarmed to hear her voice sounding so rough, so disused. 

“Saved your life,” he answered quietly. He disappeared for a second and reappeared with an orange container of water. “You were stuck in a time bubble,” he said as she put her lips around the built-in straw and drank. “It took us a while, but we eventually got through. You were, uhm, technically dead by the time we got to you, but we were able to bring you back.”

Reverence swallowed her mouthful of water and settled back against the pillows. She was on _Ladyworld_ , probably in the small medbay. “Thanks,” she said after a few minutes. “How… How long was I stuck in the time bubble?” 

The visible part of Sung’s face changed, and then he slowly removed his visor and helmet, which told Reverence she was in for bad news. “It looks like the bubble was moving faster than the rest of the universe. From what we were able to recover from the _Starskipper_ ’s computers, it looks like the equivalent of seventy-five years passed while you were in there.” 

Reverence wasn’t sure what to respond to first. Sung’s words raised a lot of questions in her mind. Eventually she decided on, “Why am I not old then?” She’d wanted to scream the words, but found she didn’t have the energy to be angry. Maybe she would after she’d recovered some more. Not that screaming at Sung would accomplish anything.

“We’re not really sure, but Havve thinks it has something to do with the personal shield the computer in your arm can generate. But time travel and time bubbles are tricky.” 

“So you don’t really know.”

“So we don’t really know.” 

They stared at each other for a bit, and Sung reached out to touch Reverence’s cheek lightly. She wanted to lean into his hand, but remained still. “My ship is gone?”

Sung’s thumb slid across her cheekbone as he pulled his hand away. “Yeah. It looked fine in the bubble, but as soon as we towed it beyond the boundary, it started to disintegrate. We saved what we could of your stuff though, and were able to download the data off your computers, so we have all your digital maps and the stories you’d entered into the computer, and your logs. The paper maps that were in the safe are okay too.” 

“Well that’s something…” 

“Rev?”

Everything felt weirdly far-off and disconnected, almost as if she was watching this exchange from outside her body. “Yeah?” 

“You can stay with us for as long as you want. If you want.” 

She smiled, but she was sure the expression would look wrong. Hollow. She’d lost a lot of her work she hadn’t gotten around to digitizing or storing yet, and the only home she’d known since she’d left K’noss all those years ago. Not to mention fifteen years worth of souvenirs and gifts… 

It was a lot to process. But Sung’s offer was kind and more than welcome. 

She tried to smile again and hoped the expression was a little warmer. “Thanks, Sung.”

* * *

_Doctor Sung, now—_

Shortly after waking up and confirming that she was, in fact, alive and all her faculties were intact, Reverence fell asleep again. Sung left the water bottle with her and slid out of the medbay—as much as he wanted to stay, he knew she needed rest. Dying and then being brought back to life couldn’t be easy on a person, physically, mentally, or emotionally, to say nothing of the loss of a home.

He went up to the bridge and sat in the first empty seat he came to, somewhere he could see the stars and watch them as _Ladyworld_ continued on its path to their next destination: Earth. It was one of Sung’s favourite planets, and probably the place their work was the most appreciated. He hoped Reverence was well enough to see it, but he kept that thought to himself; since Havve was the only other one on the bridge at that moment and he wasn’t paying much attention to Sung, it was easy enough.

Some time later—he wasn’t sure exactly how long—he heard soft footsteps on the metal flooring, and turned to find Reverence standing there, the blanket from the medbay bed wrapped around her shoulders and held in place with her metal arm, the only part of her body that probably wasn’t tired.

“Are you okay to be up?” he asked. Havve looked between them, concern somehow showing in the red light of his eyes. Sung relayed what Havve wanted to say. “It’s been a few days, but you should still be resting.” 

“I’ll sit down and keep resting, but there’s no window in that room and I couldn’t stare at the walls any longer.” She settled heavily into the chair next to Sung and pulled the blanket tighter around her. Her face was paler than usual, making her star-like freckles all the more prominent. “So where are we headed?” 

“Earth. It’s one of my favourite places in the universe—one of all our favourite places.” 

“Is this the planet you told me about? With one moon, a yellow sun, and hundreds of named constellations?” 

Sung brought up star maps from Earth on the computer screen in front of them. “Yeah. If you want to come down with us, we can find a place where you can see the stars really well. Sometimes you can even see the edge of the Milky Way galaxy in the sky. When it’s dark enough.” 

“Sounds beautiful.” 

“It is.” 

“Do you think I’d be able to blend in on Earth?” 

“With the right clothes to hide your arm and glasses or contact lenses to hide your eyes, easily.”

“Good.” She smiled at Sung. “I think I’d like very much to see Earth. Maybe stay a while. Until I feel well enough to start bouncing around the stars again. Have to find some money for a ship, but… It might be nice to be still for a bit.” 

Sung returned her grin, and shifted closer, until their shoulders were touching. “It would be nice to stop moving for a while. It’s been too long since we were on Earth for more than a couple weeks at a time.” 

A comfortable silence fell around them as the stars slid by outside the ship. After a minute or two, Sung felt Reverence looking at him, and turned to face her. The stars reflected in her all-black eyes, and there was a look on his face he’d only caught glimpses of before. Quickly, before he could second guess the impulse and the instinctive voice in the back of his mind, he leaned in until their foreheads touched. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, only loud enough for her to hear.

“Yes,” she answered.

As soon as their lips touched, someone behind them snorted.

* * *

_Commander Meouch, now—_

“Fucking finally.”

* * *

_Lord Phobos, now—_

“Guess she’s coming to Earth with us.” 

* * *

_Havve Hogan, now—_

01011001 01101111 01110101 00100111 01110010 01100101 00100000 01100001 01101100 01101100 00100000 01110010 01101001 01100111 01101000 01110100 00101100 00100000 01010010 01100101 01110110 00101110

(You’re all right, Rev.)

* * *

_Reverence, now—_

She smiled at the Groove Crusaders around her, then at Sung specifically, and enjoyed the momentarily feeling of belonging, of family—momentary, because she was sure something else bad would happen that she would get blamed for, but she didn’t really mind. It was all kind of funny, and Reverence knew, despite the unexpected turn her life had taken, she was safe where she was. She shifted until she was comfortable, put her head on Sung’s shoulder, then settled in to ponder the distant stars before her and the weird, wonderful spacemen around her.

**Author's Note:**

> This was... a challenge. I had lots of fun, but writing the boys was difficult. I'm not sure I'll ever do anything like this again, but I'm glad I did! Hopefully you enjoyed the fic and you liked Reverence. I always have OCs because that's the easiest way for me to enter and interact with a world. :) Thanks for reading!


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